The Reckoning - 02 Read Online Free PDF

an immediate threat. I crept silently around to the door of the shed, only to find it locked. I knew the key was in the house, hanging on a hook beside the back door. The problem was that I had no way of knowing what else might be in there, too. I’d rather not take the risk.
                  Using my multi-tool, I started at the bottom hinge and pulled out the pin. Then I repeated the process at the top. I caught the door as it began to fall and slid it to the ground with as little noise as I could. Then I peeked inside the shed. It was just as I remembered it. There was a large familiar green lawn tractor with all the green accessories, along with numerous yard tools and garden implements, not to mention my big red toolbox.
                  There were also two five-gallon gas cans for the mower. I checked them and found them both to be full. I always said that my sister-in-law had a touch of OCD. Everything had to be clean and in its place. Every time I mowed her yard, she made sure to refill the fuel cans. That was good news for me. If my wife’s blazer needed fuel, there was ten gallons right here. That was more than enough to get me back to Springfield.
                  Moving to the toolbox, I opened the second from the bottom drawer and found what I was looking for; a short handled sledgehammer I used for taking the hull apart on the boat when I was restoring it. I used to joke and call it Mjolnir when I used it. Now, I’d call it that for another reason entirely. It would make a great weapon against zombies. All I’d need to do is fashion a chord or a thong around the end of it to keep it from flying out of my hand.
                  Grinning like a kid in a candy store, I stuck the haft of the hammer in my belt and kept rummaging for gear. I took a hacksaw from my box and a portable tool kit. I pushed the wheelbarrow out onto the grass and loaded a few tools into it. Then I pushed it around to the side of the shed. I’d use the wheelbarrow to ferry gear back to the raft. It’d be far easier than carrying it all.
                  After a quick scan of the area, I was still zombie-free for the moment. I finished up by setting the two gas cans beside the wheelbarrow. The last thing I grabbed was a double bladed ax that I used for woodcutting. I cut wood every year for my house and for my sister-in-law. I briefly considered grabbing the chain saw, but decided against it because of all the noise. It was time to move on to the next objective.
                  Grabbing the handles of the wheelbarrow rickshaw style, I headed across the yard towards the back of Myron’s house. Odin trotted ahead of me, his ears perked up and sniffing the air. If he wasn’t growling, I took it to mean it was clear. I could see zombies in the field across the road as I passed between my sister-in-law’s house and Myron’s. Fortunately, they were too focused on chasing a cow to notice me.
                  I stopped as I reached the back of Myron’s house and climbed the steps to the back porch. I could see through the screen and noticed that the porch door was tied shut with twine. Slipping my combat knife out of the sheath, I slid the blade between the door and the frame and cut the twine. Then I used the blade to pop up the old-fashioned hook latch that was locking the door.
    I pulled it open as quietly as I could, but it still made a creaking noise as the old rusty spring extended. Odin and I slipped inside and I shut the door behind us. I looped a few lengths of the twine around the handle, just in case. Then I knelt down below the windows and waited.
                  Odin didn’t growl and I didn’t see any zombies come around the house, so I stood and approached the back door to the house. I froze mid-step when I saw the curtain move. I held my breath, not sure if it was Myron inside or a zombie welcoming committee. Experience had also taught